


Not Her Martyr

by Razzberrie



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Gen, Introspection, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Religion, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26099212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razzberrie/pseuds/Razzberrie
Summary: "Here’s the church, here’s the steeple, this is the folly of our people."Legend finds himself overthinking in The Sanctuary after his life has taken too many turns.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	Not Her Martyr

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for: Criticism of Religion, explicit language, self deprecation.

The light poured in through the stained-glass windows of The Sanctuary like a river of technicolor stars across the carpet.

Naturally, Legend sat in the pew scowling.

The group of Links found themselves in Legend’s Hyrule unexpectedly without any immediate danger to identify. After spending the morning buying supplies in Kakariko Village, Legend took them the long way home to show off his era of Hyrule. As they walked along the river, the garden in front of the Sanctuary came into view, piquing the curiosity of some of his companions. Temples, they’d all seen plenty of, but an actual Church dedicated to Hylia was rare, one as grandiose as the Sanctuary was even more so.

They all filed in one-by-one, each going their own directions from admiring the paintings on the walls to thumbing through the bookshelves for the answers to all their adventures. Sky went straight to the front of the church, kneeling down to offer his prayers to the Goddess statue. Time, like himself, sat in a pew alone with a blank look across his features. Maybe he too was cursing themselves for coming in here, only, he was courteous enough to keep his emotions to himself.

Legend found himself thinking about his adventures, more so, what went _wrong_ in his adventures. People who tried to help him died, people got kidnapped and tortured, a whole island vanished. A beautiful young songstress with curls of fire never got to make her wish because he was a selfish little shit... Maybe he wasn’t actually a hero. I mean, who did he help because it sure as hell wasn’t her. Wasn’t the point of being a hero to prevent the bad shit from happening? All he ever did was react to the bad and fix it with wishes from golden triangles. That wasn’t heroic, that was pure luck.

And he couldn’t fix his wish, even with the holy artifact.

His Uncle was never an overly religious man, so Legend never picked up the habit. Why bother when all She did was use him for her dirty work? If She was all powerful, why couldn’t She stop Ganon and seal him away?

Tales of Heroes and Sages and Wise men were all written in the pages housed in this holy cathedral, but few tales of the Goddess actually fighting the good fight. Trust him, he did the research once upon a time before the wanderlust struck him to find a new horizon. Tales of a Goddess lifting the world into the heavens to save the people from the fire of death and war—as if she could be so merciful to them. It was an enchanting fairy tale for a young mind to revel in, but the more he grew, the more he realized she wouldn’t save anyone, because humanity was still just a scourge that shouldn’t have been saved. Seeing eight others who had suffered at her hands as he had only solidified the fact that _She_ didn’t care, that She never saved anyone, or prevented wars. She’s the one who caused it all.

As he stared at the statue of Hylia at the head of the church, he realized how deep his anger was seated. Legend had never wanted this, had never dreamt or wished or hoped for any of this; the pain, the heartache, the misery. He didn’t want the responsibility of being a hero, nor did he want the triforce of courage. He could never tell his new-found friends this though: it would cause a deep divide between them all. They wouldn’t want him around if he spoke his mind, if he said what was he was truly holding back…

That maybe Dark Link wasn’t so wrong after all.

Afterall, he made valid points; what did Hylia ever do for him? All she did was take and demand. How many sleepless nights did he spend huddled up under the trees for warmth in the rain? How many times did he stitch himself up after another possessed Hyrule Knight chased him down? How many people did he kill? How many times did he hear Marin’s song echoing in his ears when she no longer existed?

How many people were hurt because of him?

Because of _Hylia_?

The pain burning in his gut began to bubble and the room felt as hot as Death Mountain and he clenched his fists to keep it inside. His anger was almost at his breaking point, but he couldn’t just walk out now. He should have left when they came in. Here’s the church, here’s the steeple, this is the folly of our people. The blind leading the blind in holy guidance. Utterly ridiculous.

Every time he stepped into the church something bad happened.

Legend remembered the first time he stepped into the Sanctuary, before he was ever, “The Hero of Legend”. It was a funeral, he was young, it could quite possibly be his first memory. People wailed around him, people held him, people gave him flowers and gifts. Maybe that’s why he didn’t particularly like people touching him; he was damaged goods at an early age. He remembered twin caskets by the Goddess’ statue. He remembered approaching them and he does thank his lucky stars that he can’t remember the faces of the dead within them. He won’t thank Her, She didn’t save them.

The next time he came was many years later, on a particularly stormy night. The night he was chosen for his ‘destiny,’ as his Uncle called it with his dying breath. He had been soaking wet and cold, and positively putrid, fresh from the sewers with Zelda trailing him. The Old Man welcomed them with open arms and all and thought that he would be their savior from Agahnim, but jokes on him, because Legend had let him get murdered too and Zelda was taken anyways.

Every time he crossed paths with anyone new, they died.

It was only a matter of time before he would watch one of his fellow heroes die.

Legend shook his head against the thoughts of his brothers laying broken and bloody on a nameless battlefield. He couldn’t let it happen; he wouldn’t let Hylia take them away from their lives again. They had all done enough for her and they deserve their small shreds of happiness. He would tear her from Her throne and give Her to Ganon himself if it ever came down to it. His eyes narrowed, locking on the marbled stone.

“You hear me, _bitch_?” He muttered, barely above a whisper, to himself. “After this, we’re done. You won’t ask us for anything anymore.” He crossed his arms across his chest and blew the steam he’d been holding in through his nose as quietly as he could without attracting attention.

Legend flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder, breaking him from his trance. He turned his head to see Hyrule’s bright eyes staring back at him. His cheeks flushed from startling his friend, freckles burning against the rose in his skin. Legend blinked before giving Hyrule a lopsided smile and nodding his head in acknowledgment.

“Hey, you need a few more minutes? We’ve been outside waiting for you: you gotta show us to your house, dummy.” Hyrule returned the grin that spread off of Legend’s face and offered his hand to him.

Legend took his hand as he lifted himself to his feet. “Yeah, I’m ready to get the hell out of here. Sorry for making you wait.”

He would be the Hero one last time.

But it wasn’t for Her.

**Author's Note:**

> Personal thankyou to SunflowerAro for helping me organize my thoughts and tags and giving me a title and just being a good writer buddy to poke at. Ily<3


End file.
